


Every Single Day is Grim Enough of a Reminder

by noodlebowl



Series: All you have is your fire - A Caleb Widogast collection [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Caleb Widogast Deserves Nice Things, Caleb Widogast Needs a Hug, Caleb Widogast is my son and he deserves the world, Depressed Caleb Widogast, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Caleb Widogast, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Major Character Injury, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Self-Loathing Caleb Widogast, critical role - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlebowl/pseuds/noodlebowl
Summary: [ SPOILERS FOR CR C2E18 ]There’s no sound, not yet. Just silence.And then it hits.It always does, the memories always come back to haunt him, and there’s no way to resist it or forget it. All he can do is ride it out, let it wash over him again and again.





	Every Single Day is Grim Enough of a Reminder

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoilers for episode 18.
> 
> Caleb Widogast is my son and he deserves nice things. I wrote this to torment myself.

Three out of three fireballs hit.

They hit exactly where Caleb had wanted them to hit. One in the left shoulder, one in the right shoulder, and one in the center, right in the head.

Caleb’s mind is at ease as he watches the skin burn off the face, as he watches their mouth open in a bloodcurdling scream. He doesn’t hear it, but he sees it, sees the panic in their eyes, the fear of what’s to come - the fear of death.

Because that’s what Caleb has done. He has sent them to their death, and it’s not the first time someone has fallen by his hands. Burned by his hands.

His mind is at ease. He feels calm, he felt calm when he let the fire inside him take over and ebb out of him, he felt calm when he smelled burning hair and flesh. He felt calm when he killed that man just now. The calm will continue for a little longer.

There’s no sound, not yet. Just silence.

And then it hits.

It always does, the memories always come back to haunt him, and there’s no way to resist it or forget it. All he can do is ride it out, let it wash over him again and again.

An already blackened skull suddenly looks familiar. The hair that’s turning into ash looks familiar. The robes that are burning away into nothing look familiar.

And that’s all that’s needed. The whole scenery changes, and Caleb stands not on rough dirt, but on cold grass. A gust of wind hits him, and it’s warm, too warm to be natural. He blinks, once, twice, and wishes he hadn’t, wishes he could close his eyes, but to no use. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t peel his eyes away from the flames that lick hungrily up the wood of his childhood home.

There’s no sound, but he doesn’t need it. He hears the pained screams for help every night when he closes his eyes.

It’s overwhelming, to say the least. And Caleb doesn’t know why he suddenly can’t see it any longer, he doesn’t know why his vision is so blurry until tears spill from his eyes.

He can’t look away. He wants to, but he can’t move an inch. His body feels like it’s made of lead, like he’s made of stone. Weighted down by his shame and self-hatred, his pity. Not for himself, but for everyone that has had to suffer by his hand.

He feels his knees hit the ground as the memories finally come to a stop. But still, he can’t seem to let them go, can’t seem to get his breathing under control. He feels like he might choke, as if he’s breathed in smoke. He wants to cough it up, wants to puke until his lungs come up just so he can try and get that disgusting taste out of his mouth, but he can’t.

The body in front of him is still burning.

Caleb’s vision blurs again, and his breathing picks up.

His hands go to his mouth first, to stop the rapid intake of air, but then go directly into his hair to pull avidly instead, a desperate attempt to try and knock some sense into himself, an attempt at trying to differentiate between what’s real and not - because he doesn’t want to go back there again, he doesn’t want to see that again, he doesn’t want to see them like that again.

He doesn’t want to see what he did again.

Every single day is grim enough of a reminder - being in his own skin is grim enough of a reminder.

He vaguely registers a hand on his shoulder. It feels burning hot, but he doesn’t feel compelled to do anything about it. He doesn’t think he could, even if he did want to. He doesn’t know who it belongs to either - if it’s Nott, or Beauregard, or perhaps Mollymauk. He just knows that they should give up on him already and move on.

Because Caleb is a broken man, a disgusting human being who doesn’t deserve any of the kindness or friendship that he gets. But no one else seems to see that, even if he tells them. Some even feel compelled to reassure him that he’s not, some tell him he’s the opposite.

And Caleb just laughs, because if his parents were here, he knows they would agree.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated.


End file.
